ue haze of the valley of
the Thames. Elizabeth was a little afraid of the unenclosed sheep away
up the slope--she had never been near big unrestrained animals
before--but Denton reassured her. And overhead a white-winged bird
circled in the blue.

They talked but little until they had eaten, and then their tongues were
loosened. He spoke of the happiness that was now certainly theirs, of
the folly of not breaking sooner out of that magnificent prison of
latter-day life, of the old romantic days that had passed from the
world for ever. And then he became boastful. He took up the sword that
lay on the ground beside him, and she took it from his hand and ran a
tremulous finger along the blade.

"And you could," she said, "_you_--could raise this and strike a man?"

"Why not? If there were need."

"But," she said, "it seems so horrible. It would slash.... There would
be"--her voice sank,--"_blood_."

"In the old romances you have read often enough ..."

"Oh, I know: in those--yes. But that is different. One knows it is not
blood, but just a sort of red ink.... And _you_--killing!"

She looked at him doubtfully, and then handed him back the sword.

After they had rested and eaten, they rose up and went on their way
towards the hills. They passed quite close to a huge flock of sheep, who
stared and bleated at their unaccustomed figures. She had never seen
sheep before, and she shivered to think such gentle things must needs be
slain for food. A sheep-dog barked from a distance, and then a shepherd
appeared amidst the supports of the wind-wheels, and came down towards
them.

When he drew near he called out asking whither they were going.

Denton hesitated, and told him briefly that they sought some ruined
house among the Downs, in which they might live together. He tried to
speak in an off-hand manner, as though it was a usual thing to do. The
man stared incredulously.

"Have you _done_ anything?" he asked.

"Nothing," said Denton. "Only we don't want to live in a city any
longer. Why should we live in cities?"

The shepherd stared more incredulously than ever. "You can't live here,"
he said.

"We mean to try."

The shepherd stared from one to the other. "You'll go back to-morrow,"
he said. "It looks pleasant enough in the sunlight.... Are you sure
you've done nothing? We shepherds are not such _great_ friends of the
police."

Denton looked at him steadfastly. "No," he said. "But we are too poor to
live i